Not Enough Lemonade
by crywonder
Summary: Ash is dealing with his first morning after a big night out, and much to everyone's dismay, they find that he gets the worst hangovers in all of Kanto. Sequel to Too Much Lemonade. Hints of Pokeshipping.
_This is a sequel to my other fic Too Much Lemonade, but you can read this one on it's own. It was a little harder to write because while I headcanon Ash as someone who gets the WORST hangovers, it's never really happened to me so I couldn't draw from experience like in the other one._

 _Also, apologies in advance for the lack of major Pokeshipping in this fic. It was originally going to be just Ash and Misty, but I decided that idea wasn't really working and having everyone involved felt more right._

* * *

The minute Ash woke up, he felt like he wanted to die. A low groan lead to a rumble in his chest which woke up the snoozing Pokémon on his chest – he hadn't even realised Pikachu had been sleeping there.

Where _was_ he sleeping? Ash didn't recognise the ceiling. He tried to get up on his elbows to get a better look at his surroundings, but he suddenly felt like he'd been stampeded by a pack of thirty Tauros.

"Pi?" The rodent Pokémon was now leaning on his front paws, looking up at him questioningly.

"Morning …?" Ash mumbled, rubbing at his eyes, "Pikachu, what are you … doing here?" He groaned, "Ugh, I feel _terrible_ …"

He rolled over on his side, intending to swing his legs over the side of the bed so he could get up, but his body didn't even seem to be functioning enough for that. Instead, he rolled straight off the bed and onto the floor with a thud, and he was feeling the pain of his fall tenfold. Pikachu, thankfully, had sensed the danger and leaped out of the way onto a nearby chair.

"Pikapi!"

"Ow …" With difficulty, he pushed himself up onto his palms and turned onto his back. He managed to sit himself up just in time to see Pikachu running out the door. "Pikachu! Where are you going in such a hurry?"

His head pounded, and he rubbed his temple in an attempt to calm it. He felt like every part of his body was breaking down, and not in the sense of a fever or any other sickness.

"Well, looks like you're finally up!" Gary leaned entered the room, leaning against the doorway.

"G-Gary?" Faint memories of a darklit room, loud music, a clear fizzy drink that made him feel nice and warm all over – Ash furrowed his brow. _Make that lotsa drinks_ , he remembered. "What … happened last night?" He tried to get onto his feet, using the side of the bed as a guide to push himself up. "I remember hanging out with you and lemonade and … Misty's Psyduck?"

Gary raised an eyebrow as he strode over to help Ash up. "I don't know about anything about Misty's Psyduck," Gary said, grunting as he pulled Ash up by the hand, "But you definitely helped yourself to a lot more than lemonade."

Ash nodded, his memory clearing up the more he talked about it. "That's right! There was a little vodka in it too. Brock said it'd be okay."

"Don't ever take Brock's advice on anything to do with alcohol ever again."

Ash winced. "Was it that bad?" His throbbing headache made itself apparent again and he groaned, sparing Gary the need to answer. His old rival threw his head back and laughed heartily, leading Ash out the door.

"Come on, Mr. Hungover Master. Let's get you some breakfast."

Ash could smell Brock's cooking before he could see it, leading him to pick up his pace, headache be damned. He followed Gary to the Oak dining room, and found Brock, Tracey and Misty sitting together at the table. Seeing Misty triggered vague memories of various conversations they'd had the previous night – including something Ash hoped to whatever powers that be didn't actually come out of his mouth – but he pushed all of that aside when he saw the heaping pile of carbs and in front of the empty seat next to her. Ash motioned to take it all in, but a slight stumble on the way to his seat reminded him of how sore his body was at that point, and he groaned.

"Hey, Ash," Brock nodded, "How're you feeling?"

"Terrible," Ash said, rubbing his neck. "I don't think I've ever felt worse in my life."

The older man passed him an extra large glass of water. "This should help a bit."

Brock was right, Ash noted as he downed the glass of water. It didn't help his headache, but it definitely solved the problem of his parched throat. "Thanks."

"Did you sleep okay?" Gary asked, "Was the shed comfortable enough for you?"

Ash shook his head. "I dunno. I didn't really wake up until I fell _off_ the bed."

Misty snickered. "He sleeps like a rock anyway, Gary. I don't think it would've made a difference."

"At least you slept well!" Tracey smiled.

"Oh, you're awake!" All heads turned to the figure entering from the kitchen door. Daisy walked in with a glass of something red.

"What're you doing here?" Ash asked without thinking.

"She was my plus one for the party last night," Tracey said.

"Why?"

Everyone turned to stare at Ash like he was missing something very obvious.

"Whatever, guys," Daisy shrugged, walking towards his side of the table, "Anyway Ash, you're, like, right on time 'cause I just made you my special hangover cure!"

"Daisy …" Misty looked concerned, "Are you seriously giving Ash a – "

"Virgin Mary!" Daisy chimed in, and everyone around them heaved a sigh of relief. Ash only blushed.

"Wh-wh-why would you give me … a v-virgin …?"

" _Mary_ ," Brock said. Ash noted he was holding back laughter, unlike Gary who was openly snickering. "It's the non-alcoholic version of a Bloody Mary."

Tentatively, Ash accepted the glass that Daisy had put down in front of him. It smelt nothing like something Ash would drink willingly, but he was still pretty thirsty and he ended up chugging down a good portion of the drink. He tasted something very similar to the drinks he had last night, but he thought nothing of it. The effect was almost instantaneous – his head was pounding now, but the pain in the rest of his body seemed to be ebbing away.

"Pika?" Ash wasn't sure when his rodent friend had arrived at the table, but he seemed interested in whatever he was drinking.

"Nuh uh, Pikachu," Daisy swatted the Pokémon's hand away, "This one's not for you." She turned her attention to his trainer. "So, how do you feel? I added in my special hangover cure you'd feel better, like, faster."

"It works," Ash nodded, "What did you use?"

"Tequila."

" _What?!_ " There was a ruckus as Misty jumped to her feet, Tracey hid his face in his hands and Gary kept laughing. "Daisy!" Misty clenched her fists, "You can't cure hangovers with _more_ alcohol!"

"Why not?" Daisy looked genuinely puzzled, Gary only started laughing harder. "It works for me …"

"It's because of alcohol that you get hungover in the first place!"

"Well, if you didn't want my help then you shouldn't have, like, asked for it in the first place …"

"I _didn't!_ "

Ash groaned and hid his face in his hands, the loud exchange between the two making his head hurt again. It wasn't like the previous night, where Ash hadn't already had a headache to top. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he shifted to see Misty looking down at him, concerned.

"Hey." His gaze moved on to Gary, whose expression had softened. "How about I set you up with a nice hot mug of coffee? It always works for me."

Ash stayed away from coffee for the most part – he had enough energy within him that he'd never actually needed it – but he nodded anyway. He'd never been hungover before, and Brock and Tracey seemed to be nodding around him. It had to work, right?

Half an hour later, Ash was hunched over the dining table once again, realising that no, it _didn't_ have to work, and Ash was just kidding himself because there was nothing in the world that could possibly cure him right now. Not _ever_.

Gary scratched his head. "Man … I've always had a hundred percent success rate with this stuff …"

Daisy sighed. "I'm the same with margarita."

"Daisy, I thought we already established that alcohol isn't an acceptable hangover cure."

"Well, do you, like, have any more ideas?"

Gary stopped. He was a Pokémon scientist, not a human one, and coffee had been the one thing that had always worked on him, so he never bothered to look into anything else. He looked over at Brock, who raised his hands in defence.

"Don't look at me," he said, "I've never been in this situation and none of my siblings are old enough for me to know anything yet."

They sighed as Misty offered Ash another glass of water, which Ash accepted and downed all in two big gulps. His throat still felt parched and the pounding in his head had reduced enough that the stinging pain in his temples had returned once again, and his bladder ached. It was strange – he was obviously dehydrated, but he also desperately needed to use the boys' room. Ash was pretty sure that wasn't how it worked … right?

All in all, he had no intent of ever drinking alcohol again.

He stood up with great difficulty, chair creaking loudly against the tiled floor. He excused himself to go to the bathroom, and proceeded to have the longest and most excrutiating pee of his life, leaving his body faint and thirsting for much more liquid. He hobbled back to the kitchen to find the four of them crowded around the table, deep in conversation. They stopped as soon as they saw him.

"What?" Ash rubbed his head.

"Did you wash your hands?" Misty asked.

"Huh? Of course I did! What kind of guy do you think I am? … Don't answer that," he quickly added when he noticed the look on her face.

She waved the notion away. "Whatever, Ash. While you were gone, I was telling the boys about what I do when I get hungover, and we thought you should give it a go."

"Oh yeah?" He walked up to their circle, gripping the back of a chair for support. "What's that?"

"Swimming," she grinned.

"It's actually a great idea," Brock said, rubbing his chin, "Physical exercise can do wonders in the worst of times, and not just for Pokemon."

Ash's face morphed into a deep frown as he contemplated what would probably end up being laps around a pool and decided he really wasn't in the mood. Normally he'd be all about bringing out the swimming trunks– being hungover really sucked.

"I don't really think –"

"C'mon, Ash!" Misty nudged his shoulder, "It'll be good for you! We can call out all our water Pokémon and hang out."

He couldn't say no to that.

* * *

As much as he enjoyed the sight of his best friend in a two-piece bathing suit, Ash wasn't having the best time. His limbs could barely find it within themselves to move, and the best he could do was a weak Growlithe-paddle while Misty and their Pokémon zoomed around him in the pool. He watched wryly as she was glomped by his Palpitoad, like they'd known each other forever and were the best of friends.

So _maybe_ he was a little bitter. But Ash still couldn't summon the energy to join in with them. He frowned, seizing his paddling motion and suddenly feeling very tired. The water splashing around his shoulders was soothing, and he let his knees go weak. It couldn't hurt to take a small power nap, after all …

He rose up suddenly coughing and spluttering, thrashing around until he realised a pair of strong arms was holding him above the water.

"Ugh – relax, will you? It's just me," Misty huffed, the strain in her voice evident. He immediately stopped struggling and let his feet find the bottom of the pool – it was closer than he thought it was. "What the hell was that?"

"I …"

"You nearly drowned in the shallow end of the pool."

"My muscles … stopped working?" Ash managed, rubbing the back of his neck.

She glared at him, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, before she finally let go and looked away. "Maybe swimming wasn't such a good idea …"

"Maybe it wasn't." When she didn't respond, he got the feeling he'd said something wrong. "Hey … you know, a-any other day I would've loved to –"

"I know, Ash." She flashed him a smile. "But this isn't about me, it's about you. You're clearly not in a state to be doing anything right now."

"Hey!" Brock, Tracey and Gary came running out into the pool area, followed by an out-of-breath Professor Oak.

"You called?" Tracey asked.

"Yeah," Misty swept her bangs away from her face. "Ash started drowning again, but we're fine now."

The trio looked wholly unsurprised and unimpressed, but Professor Oak scratched his chin. "Drowning? I didn't realise you didn't know how to swim, Ash. Though it would explain a lot …"

"I know how to swim," Ash protested, suddenly aware of how deep and groggy his voice sounded.

"Ah," Professor Oak nodded, "I understand. You had a big night, did you?"

Ash wasn't sure he was supposed to answer him. He knew the reason he'd slept over at the lab instead of back home was because his mother would be less than pleased that he'd been drunk off his face, but he wasn't sure what he could say to Professor Oak. Surely he already knew the reason Ash had stayed over at the lab, didn't he?

"It's alright," the professor said, almost like he read Ash's mind, "I couldn't possibly mind. After all, I've seen Gary do much worse," – Ash noticed Gary shooting a glare in his grandfather's direction – "So I can't say I'm disappointed. You are an adult now, after all. Why, it only feels like yesterday when …"

Ash heaved a sigh of relief as the professor launched into describing some memory of some stupid thing Ash and Gary did when they were young. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to handle the professor's disapproval, even over something so trivial.

"Anyway, I do happen to know a professor who's developed a remarkable hangover cure over in Unova. Unfortunately," Professor Oak scratched his head, "I'm afraid it'll take a few days to bring over here, unless you were willing to travel to Unova yourself …"

Ash's face fell, and Misty looked at the elderly man through the corner of her eyes. "Gee, thanks Professor."

"Don't mention it! You know I always love to help."

And Ash knew he needed all the help he could get.

* * *

They were back at the dining table when disaster struck.

It was terrible timing too. Ash's headache was obviously receding, but he was still hunched over the table, not quite satisfied with the rate things were getting better and wondering how anyone managed to function while in such a state, when Delia decided to come waltzing into the lab.

"It's very unlike him to sleep in this late … " her voice trailed from outside the room, and Ash's head snapped up. He saw three of his friends frozen in place around him – Tracey was nowhere to be seen.

She finally stepped through the door and stopped when she saw Ash. He knew how it must look – bloodshot eyes, bags under his eyes and hair even messier than usual. (He decided not to risk it with a shower after his swim. If he could drown in a 3 feet pool, he didn't trust himself bathing alone. Misty thought he was gross, but he was used to that.) Ash suddenly wished he had sunglasses.

"I didn't get any sleep," Ash suddenly blurted out, wincing as he realised the white lie he'd just given his mother. He could never stand to be dishonest with her.

"Ash, I know what you were doing last night."

He slumped. Of course she did. He looked down at his hands and waited for the inevitable lecture; he was surprised when Brock spoke up instead.

"Mrs Ketchum, it was my fault. I didn't realise Ash was going to get so drunk."

"Me too," Gary offered, "I was the one who –"

"Nonsense!" Delia waved their excuses away, "I've told Ash many times what happens when you have one too many drinks, so he should've known better."

Ash remained silent, trying to focus on picking a hangnail on his thumb but feeling far too fatigued to make any progress on it. He finally looked at his mother from the corner of his eye, and realised that she didn't look mad at all.

"Sweetie," she placed her hands on her hips, "Why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"

So he did. And when he woke up again, he felt … fine. Pikachu had positioned himself on the foot of his bed, and was startled awake when Ash ripped the covers away and jumped out of bed.

"Sorry buddy, did I wake you?" Ash rubbed his stomach. "Man, I'm starved. Wanna go see if there's something to eat?"

"Pika!" The mouse leapt into his master's shoulder. Together, they raced back out to Professor Oak's dining room and found everyone still sitting around, finishing up their lunch.

"Smells great!" Ash exclaimed.

"Ash!" Brock stopped, and everyone else turned around to look at him too. "H-how're you feeling?"

"Hungry," Ash admitted, "But otherwise, I think I feel pretty good!"

"Really?" Gary asked, "No headaches? Dehydration?"

"I guess I'm thirsty too …"

"So," Misty placed her hand on her chin, "You're … completely okay?"

"Sure am!"

The group exchanged a look with each other, before they started talking all at once.

"Well, I-I'm glad you're doing better!"

"Yeah, 'cause you were, like, out for the count."

"It's good to see you up and lively again, Ash!"

"And," his mother added firmly, "I hope you know better than to ever drink that much again."

Ash nodded furiously. "Don't worry, mom. This'll never happen again."

"That's my boy! Now your lunch is getting cold, so eat on up!"

And Ash dug into his lunch with the same enthusiasm that he normally would, promising to himself once again that he would never drink again.


End file.
